


and you're staring back at me like i wasn't there

by imadetheline



Series: Breathe In, Breathe Out [24]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Father-Son Relationship, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Temporary Amnesia, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadetheline/pseuds/imadetheline
Summary: febuwhump day twenty-four - memory loss
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Breathe In, Breathe Out [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140389
Comments: 38
Kudos: 99
Collections: Luke and Vader Bonding, febuwhump 2021





	and you're staring back at me like i wasn't there

**Author's Note:**

> title from empire by of monsters and men

Luke’s not quite sure how to handle the unconscious Vader lying amongst the smoking wreckage of his TIE. He wasn’t supposed to be here. The Alliance had no intelligence that he would be. It was just supposed to be a quick supply run to get Luke back on his feet after Bespin. But now he’s staring at that skeletal mask again, albeit from a click away. But already, his hand has strayed to his belt, looking for a saber with a hand made of wires and gears, only to clench around nothing but air.

Luke’s own x-wing is smashed to pieces behind him in the trees; no way out, his blaster with it. He was lucky to walk away uninjured. And maybe there’s something salvageable in Vader’s smashed TIE, but to see if that’s true would mean he’d have to approach the ship and with it Vader himself. And his body seems very opposed to that, his feet stuck to the grass. 

Why did Vader have to be  _ here _ ? Luke wasn’t prepared for this. He can’t seem to process the dark figure lying prone, not five meters away. Leia would have shot him right then and there, no matter what shocking revelation of parental relation she had heard. But Luke still makes no move. He can do little more than stare, nonexistent wind whistling in his ears, the memory of falling bright in his mind.

The wreckage continues to smoke, clouding the bright sky, and the sounds of the forest distantly filter through the fog of Luke’s mind. A sudden cracking as one of the TIE’s broken wings finally crashes to the clearing floor snaps Luke back to the present with a start. He should really make a plan, do  _ something _ before Vader wakes up. Because he would really prefer not to be around when that happens. He does  _ not  _ want to have to think about anything that happened between them, and, granted, he hasn’t been doing a great job of that over the last month, but being in the man’s presence is definitely making it more challenging.

So he’ll scavenge through Vader’s TIE to find something he can hopefully use to repair his comm, and then he’ll get the hell off this planet. There are some holes in the plan, he admits, but it’s all he’s got. So Luke sucks in a deep breath and forces his feet forward. 

He skirts the motionless form of Vader on the grass, trying to keep space between them as he approaches the downed TIE. But something on the Sith’s belt catches his attention: it’s Vader’s lightsaber. And something inside him blanches at the thought of holding the weapon that took his hand, but it’s not like he can leave Vader armed if he’s going to wake at any moment. So Luke pauses and, unwilling to approach him, stretches out a hand and calls the saber to him with the Force. It smacks into the palm of his prosthetic, and he blinks. It’s heavier than the one he lost on Bespin, but the design is similar. Another point towards a truth he doesn’t want to believe.

But it seems the galaxy is determined for him to confront it because Vader jerks in the grass, and Luke flinches back a step, finger hovering over the ignition button for the saber. Slowly, the dark figure rises, like darkness coalescing into physical form, and Luke hefts the unlit saber up further, fear threatening to choke him as his thoughts abandon him in the presence of everything he’s tried to avoid for the last month.

Vader stands slowly, like a starbird rising from the ashes, and turns. There’s a crack running down the left side of his mask through the lens of one of his eyepieces; though, it’s not wide enough for any of his face to be visible. Luke resists the urge to take another step back and instead ignites the lightsaber. The red blade crackles into life and Luke’s stomach churns at the sight, but he forces his gaze back up as Vader turns slowly. The Sith’s right arm is held close to his chest, the fingers twitching slightly. Probably damaged in the crash, Luke guesses.

They stand there for what seems like forever, the just barely uneven breaths of the respirator joining the sparking of the TIE and the distant calls of birds as they stare, the red blade hanging between them to keep Vader from approaching. But he doesn’t even try.

And suddenly, the deep rasp echoes through the clearing, “Who are you?”

The tip of the lightsaber dips slightly, Luke’s eyebrows drawing together as he tries to process the words. Because of everything he had expected Vader to say, it was certainly not that. As soon as he realizes the lightsaber is dropping, though, he hefts it up, scowling, “I’m not playing games with you.”

The mask tilts slightly, examining him, “Neither am I, young one. Now, who are you?” The respirator cycles once more, “And perhaps more importantly, who am  _ I _ ?”

At that, the lightsaber fully falls from the position between them, singeing the grass where it hangs loosely in Luke’s grasp in his shock. He opens and closes his mouth before he finally finds words, “You mean, you don’t remember?”

“It would appear not,” the vocoder drawls, and Luke swears that’s sarcasm which is just something to add to the list of things he’s having a hard time believing right now. Surely this is a trick. But what would be the point? And the Force is oddly quiet, so Luke takes a moment and, keeping Vader directly in his line of sight, reaches out with the Force and tries to probe his sincerity. Vader’s presence is muffled; it’s like trying to reach through water but with no clue which direction is up, which is odd, to say the least. But it’s not like he’s had much training, thanks in part to Vader killing Ben, but as far as he can tell, he’s telling the truth, which is startling in itself. Maybe he hit his head in the crash?

Whatever it is, Luke did not sign up for this. He sighs heavily, letting the red blade disappear back into the hilt as he clips it to his belt, very close to his hand, just in case. But the mask is still regarding him, waiting for an answer. Luke doesn’t even know where to start. So he just says the most obvious thing, “Um, we crashed, and we need to find a way to contact my friends to come get us.”

The mask turns to the smoking TIE and then looks back at Luke, and Luke can almost feel his raised eyebrow, “I do not think this one is built for two. Were we in different ships?”

Luke shifts his foot, “Uh, yes. Mine is through the trees over there.”

“I see,” Vader says, and Luke doesn’t even want to know what that’s supposed to mean. “But you still have yet to answer my questions.”

Luke glances to the TIE wreckage, trying to gauge if there’s anything worth sticking around for or if he should just sprint far away from wherever this conversation is leading. But some part of him won’t let him leave an unarmed and amnesiac Vader to the wilds alone, even though he’d probably be fine. So he huffs out a breath, “Your name is Vader.” He’s not explaining ‘Darth’ and the Sith right now, and he’s certainly not ready to even think about the last name they once shared, so Vader it is.

And the man seems to accept that answer. But apparently, that’s not enough because Vader’s still looking at him with those inscrutable red lenses. Luke’s starting to get restless under his gaze, his hands itching for something to do, anything, so he doesn’t have to stand here. At least the TIE hasn’t exploded next to them, although Luke’s starting to wish it would. Vader’s baritone rings out again, “And you?”

It takes Luke a moment to remember what he’s asking. Even being in proximity to the intimidating Sith is normally enough to drive most emotions except fear from his body. But this situation has just muddled his thoughts and made him uncertain of what he should be feeling at all, fear mixing with confusion and a million other nameless emotions. 

It’s  _ Vader _ . But it’s a Vader that doesn’t remember who he is. He’s not attacking, but it’s not like Luke can trust anything he does. Yet finally, he answers, “Luke.”

The mask tilts, and Luke can hear the unspoken question ringing in his ears. But he’s not going to give more than that, no matter if Vader doesn’t remember anything or not. “Just Luke,” he repeats, stilling the hand fiddling with his belt and forcing his chin up, glaring at the mask over the space between them.

Vader hesitates, then inclines his head slightly in acquiescence and air leaves Luke’s lungs in a whoosh, his shoulder sagging in relief as if he’d expected Vader to suddenly return to himself and attack at Luke’s refusal to share his last name.

“How do you plan on getting off this planet,  _ Luke _ ?” Vader asks, his broken arm shifting against his chest, close to the control panel of his suit.

Luke glances to the TIE again before answering. “I’m going to look for parts to fix my comm in your ship and then contact my friends,” he says decisively, trying to inject strength and certainty into his voice. He’s not sure if Vader still remembers what the Force is, but he hefts his shields higher anyway.

“Very well,” Vader responds, much more amiably than Luke assumes he usually is.

Luke eyes him warily, but he doesn’t sense any malice, so he steps forward, moving to the TIE, making sure Vader never leaves his sight. Force, this is not what he signed up for.

<<<>>>   
  


Leia’s on her way. That much, at least, has gone right. But it’s going to take her a few hours, which is not as good, seeing as he’s stuck with an amnesiac Darth Vader who’s also his…  _ father. _

Luke’s huddled beneath the trees a little way into the forest, the hastily reassembled comm sitting in the grass before him, wires sticking out. He stares blankly at it. Now that he’s contacted Leia, all that’s left is to wait. He glances back across the clearing where Vader is still digging through the TIE with one hand, apparently fascinated by the ship he still doesn’t remember. Luke looks back down, pleading with the Force to give him anything to do so he doesn’t have to sit with his thoughts about the man a few meters away. But the Force is quiet. 

His hand drifts listlessly to the lightsaber on his belt. It’s heavy against his waist, and it feels like a part of him is continuously shrinking away from it, away from the distant screams that make pulses in the Force, away from the blood that seems to coat the blade. But it’s his only defense in case Vader tries to cut off a limb again, so he ignores the urge to hurl it into the trees and instead just pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

The sun is still shining brightly in the clearing, enough that halfway through repairing the comm Luke had unzipped the top of his orange flight suit and tied the arms around his waist to help with the heat. And then he’d moved into the trees for some shade. And yet, everything feels murky, like a fog’s descended over the Force.

Luke hears heavy footsteps across the clearing, and he quickly raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and looks out to see Darth Vader swiftly making his way towards Luke, apparently done scavenging through the TIE. Luke spares a moment to try to convince himself that this could be worse somehow and then steels himself, hand resting on the lightsaber once more. But Vader just stops in the shade of a tree a meter away. Luke pulls his knees closer to his chest, feeling smaller than ever, sitting almost at Vader’s feet.

They stay that way, unspeaking, Vader’s respirator echoing in the silence, the sun shining through the leaves above them. At least the Sith doesn’t seem interested in grilling Luke about why they’re here or anything concerning them. Thank the Force for small mercies. 

There’s a patch of less dense cover right next to Luke where the sunlight falls through in a bright patch, catching the dancing dust motes in its beam. And some part of Luke aches to reach out and pass his hand through it, try to catch the light in his palm, absorb some of its carefree spirit. But he doesn’t move. He won’t show any more weakness in front of Vader than he already has, even if this Vader now doesn’t remember it. But his gaze lingers on the patch of light anyway, bright amongst the darkness.

The silence echoes heavily in Luke’s ears for a while longer, but eventually, he starts shifting restlessly. If it goes on for another moment, Luke’s afraid he’s going to start asking questions that this Vader won’t be able to answer. So he clears his throat awkwardly, and Vader’s mask whips to him, tilted in question. Luke steels himself at the weight of the full attention and glances pointedly at the twitching arm held close to Vader’s chest, “Do you want- I mean… I could help with that.” He winces at his stumbling. The awkward silence continues, and Luke is really starting to regret all his life choices. “If you wanted, that is. I have experience with prosthetics and-” Oh great, now he’s rambling. Somehow just being in Vader’s presence makes him feel like a child again.

But then Vader interrupts him, “I would appreciate the assistance.”

And Luke shuts his mouth with a snap, looking dazedly up at Vader. He’s not sure if he expected the Sith to say no, but the response surprises him either way. Oddly enough, though, he doesn’t regret offering. So he leans forward, away from the tree he’s been resting against, and sweeps the commlink aside in the grass, already scanning the extra parts he has lying next to it and what he might need to get from the TIE depending on what’s broken. He glances back up at Vader, who hasn’t moved, still watching him. “It’ll be easier if you sit down,” he says, looking pointedly at the grass he’s cleared in front of him. 

And some part of him recoils at the thought of Darth Vader being so close to him, but he glances at the patch of sunlight next to his left side, and he subtly pushes his hand through the cool grass until it’s resting squarely in the light. It warms his skin and blood, pulsing with life and flooding his body with the heat. And the protesting part of him is quieted just as Vader leverages himself to the grass in front of Luke. The fear isn’t gone, but it’s tinged with hope now, and he reluctantly pulls his hand back, glancing up at Vader’s cracked lenses.

This close, he thinks he can almost make out an eye, but Vader extends his twitching arm, and Luke blinks, fixing his attention on it instead. Hesitantly, he reaches for it, fingers brushing against the black leather. Luke can’t stop his glance at his own prosthetic, but he quickly brings his attention back to the twisted arm, digging his nails in to pull back the covering and reveal the durasteel beneath. He examines it for a moment, fascinated at its mechanics, though it appears to be a fairly old model. But as he digs further into the wiring, his horror begins to grow. He quickly disconnects the nerve endings that had still been transmitting pain signals. Vader hadn’t even seemed bothered, which probably says something about why the rest of the interfacing in the arm barely seems ethical. He glances up at the emotionless mask to ask why the Empire’s second in command has such bad prosthetics before he remembers the man has no memory and won’t be able to answer even if he felt inclined to do so.

So Luke just looks down into the mess of wiring again, cataloging what he’s going to have to fix and whether he has the parts for it. He has a lot of ideas for improvements, but they’re not viable in their current situation. But he thinks he should be able to get it functioning again, at least.

And soon, he’s sinking into his work, almost forgetting that he’s technically helping his enemy, even if said enemy is his father, and also doesn’t remember they’re enemies. Besides, it’s better than the awkward silence, and Luke’s always more at peace when he’s working with his hands: solving mechanical problems, or helping someone, or both. 

In another universe, maybe he and his father might have worked in peaceful silence together on some ship or something like this. But Luke pushes that thought away quickly. It’s no use dwelling on things that can never happen, no matter how much it makes his heart ache. Hopefully, he’ll fix the arm up then leave with Leia, and he can hold onto this memory, even though it’s not really his father, not if he doesn’t remember who he is, but Luke can pretend. It’s the only thing he’s going to have.

And then Vader speaks for the first time in hours, a deep rumble that makes Luke jump, a wire he’s holding sparking his bare fingers as his hand drops it. “Why are you helping me?”

Luke’s clutching his stinging fingers to his chest, examining the damage, but that makes him look up, fear once again flooding his system. Has his memory returned? Is he going to pull out cuffs and comm an Imperial shuttle? “W- what?’ he stutters out, raising his shields with a vengeance and trying to reach for the saber on his belt subtly.

The mask tilts, regarding him, “You are scared… of me. Why?”

Luke freezes, exhaling sharply: Vader doesn’t remember. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he lets his hands fall to his lap in relief. But then he registers the question, and he actually laughs out loud, “That’s… a long story.”

Vader’s gaze bores into him, searching for something, and Luke’s hands move back to the innards of Vader’s arm, focusing his attention on getting the fingers to stop twitching to avoid the stare.

“We are enemies.” It’s stated as a fact, and Luke jerks his head up, hands stilling. The Force is still clouded and grey, no clue to Vader’s intentions, but the man doesn’t shift, doesn’t reach for a weapon, or make a move of any kind. He may not have any memories, but he’s certainly not slow on the uptake.

And the statement needs no confirmation, but Luke whispers it anyway, “Yes,” his heart breaking that it has to be this way, that they have to be enemies. But he just resumes working on the prosthetic, trying and failing to push away his thoughts.

The mask tilts down towards where Luke’s hands are dug into the circuitry of Vader’s arm. “I’m assuming it was you that shot down my ship. If you had not been stranded here as well, would you not have left me for dead?”

There doesn’t seem to be any malice behind the words, just curiosity, and Luke’s hands once again pause, a deep weariness suddenly pulling his shoulder down. “No- I don’t-” He sighs and runs a grimy hand through his blond hair without thinking, and then he sighs, “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. He doesn’t know many things these days, least of all anything regarding his father. It’s still surreal that he’s sitting here with him, not fighting.

But Vader doesn’t seem to want to let this topic go, repeating his question from earlier. “Then why help me?”

Luke sighs again but answers, “I was taught to help those in need, even during a war.” He shrugs, “It just seemed like the right thing to do.” And it had.

Vader seems to consider that answer more thoughtfully than Luke thinks it requires, but he just ignores it and returns to his repairs. Soon Vader’s voice breaks through the silence again, and Luke wants to smack his head against the tree behind him, “And who do I have to thank for teaching you that? Your parents?”

Luke wasn’t expecting that question. His heart clenches painfully, and he clears his throat against the emotions that clog it, his hands fiddling with one of the last wires that he just needs to tuck into place. He doesn’t look up at the emotionless mask, just shakes his head, blond strands falling forward to hide his eyes, “Uh no. My aunt and uncle raised me.”

And Luke doesn’t know how to read Vader, not while the Force is clouded. All he has are his words: “Thank them for me then.”

Luke almost wants to laugh hysterically at the irony in that statement, even as memories of fire and smoke fill his lungs, but he doesn’t. He just replaces the durasteel covering over the wires and retracts his hands, “They’re um- They’re dead.” He quickly brushes by it, unwilling to linger on the pent-up emotions lest they pour out, “But uh, your arm should work now until you can get proper repairs, that is.”

Vader lifts the arm experimentally, examining it and flexing the fingers. They all respond with only a slight delay, and Luke feels a small sense of pride that he was able to fix such outdated tech with what he had on hand or pulled from the TIE. And then Vader lowers the hand and looks back at Luke, “Thank you. I’m sure your aunt and uncle would be proud.” Luke doesn’t have the words for how much that means, even though it shouldn’t mean anything at all. “And your parents, too.”

Luke snorts at that, looking away towards the patch of shrinking sunlight as a cloud passes by overhead. He wants to call the light back. “I doubt that,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking back the moisture building up in his eyes.

Vader makes no move to stand or shift away now that his hand is fixed, just tilts his head in question, “And why is that?”

Luke looks away from the shrinking sunlight and leans back against the tree, letting the bark dig into his back as he stares up at the bright green leaves above him. “My mother died when I was born. I never knew her. And my father-” He chuckles past the emotions threatening to choke him, “Let’s just say we disagree on a lot.” His prosthetic clenches at his side, and he doesn’t think Vader misses the movement. Luke doesn’t even know why he’s telling him this. It’s just so easy here, where the divide seems nonexistent without Vader’s memories. And it’s not like he has anyone he could tell any of it to in the Alliance. Or as if he could get any of this off his chest without being locked up for being related to Darth Vader.

“Does it have something to do with the war you mentioned?” And Vader’s voice somehow manages to sound hesitant despite the uniform vocoder, something Luke’s never heard before.

Luke just sighs, pulling his knees closer, searching for warmth, “Yes,”--he hesitates, wondering if he should continue, but then he does before he’s even truly decided--“and the Force.”

And the question that follows is what he expected, “The Force?”

Maybe leaving Vader without memories is what’s best for the galaxy. Maybe they’ll return on their own. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But Luke can give him this. “Yes. It’s energy, life, all around us. You’ve probably already sensed it.” He tilts his chin down slightly so he can glance at Vader, who nods slightly in confirmation. “I don’t have much experience with this but if you reach into it, try asking it; it might help with your lost memories.” 

Then he leans his head back against the wood and closes his eyes, uncaring of the enemy in front of him that could kill him with a thought. Maybe telling him was selfish; maybe he just doesn’t want to be forgotten by his own father. But he can’t make himself regret it. Besides, he comforts himself: there’s no guarantee it’ll work.

So Luke ignores the figure of Vader sitting so close to him, a spectre of death. He knows the sun is still blazing in the clearing three meters to his right, but the distance suddenly seems unimaginable, so he strains to feel sunlight on his face where he’s sitting, although dense leaves block it from reaching his skin, from feeling its warmth. He knows he can’t grasp it, but still Luke tries, straining upwards in the Force towards the sky like he used to do as a child. 

And he’s so focused he misses the spark of awareness, of memory, in the Force from Vader’s presence. And then it’s swiftly wrapped in the folds of grey fog still clouding everything, hidden away before Luke can realize what it means about Vader’s state of mind and returning memories.

“Why must you remain on opposite sides?” There’s something real behind those words, heavier than the rest of the conversation.

But Luke doesn’t even open his eyes. He thinks if he does, he might not be able to stop the tears forming behind his eyelids. “He wants me to give up everything I love, all my values, my friends… for the dark side.”

“Perhaps he just wants what’s best for you.”

Luke laughs wetly, resentment bubbling up, “How would he possibly know what’s best for me? He doesn’t  _ know _ me at all.” Luke wants to yell, to scream, but he just presses his head further into the bark of the tree. “The first time we truly met, he kidnapped my friends and cut off my hand.” Said hand clenches at his side again. “I don’t think that’s how father-son reunions are supposed to go,” he says bitterly, eyes squeezed shut. And then he laughs humorlessly, “But that’s the dark side for you.” And maybe he’s said too much to someone who doesn’t remember anything, but he couldn’t stop it if he tried. It’s been bottled up for too long. And still, there’s more. But he just runs a hand through his hair again and lets it drop back down to the grass.

Silence falls for a long time after that, and Luke tries to surreptitiously wipe away a few tears that escape during it. How is his father sitting across from him, so close, and yet there remains an impasse between them so large Luke feels like he might drown in it?

He so desperately wants to cross it, but the fact that the only time he’s had a somewhat civil conversation with his father is when the man doesn’t know Luke is his son doesn’t bode well. Is Luke worth so little that his father can so easily choose the dark side over him? He’d just wanted his father to love him.

There’s a hitch in the respirated breathing in front of him, and Luke finally pries his eyes open, blinking up at the green leaves still blocking the sunlight, realizing his shields have dropped. He raises them again quickly. It shouldn’t matter if Vader barely remembers what the Force is.

So he just ignores Vader in front of him and tilts his head to the left instead, where the patch of light has returned, the cloud passed by. And he doesn’t care anymore, so he reaches out his hand toward the light, staring as it slips through his fingers to brighten the grass. He turns his hand over, watching the way the dust and pollen dance away from his movements as the sun warms his skin. Why can’t the Force be this simple, as easy as just reaching through the darkness for the light?

He glances to Vader and finds the mask is not looking at him but where Vader’s own gloved hand, the one Luke fixed, is resting in the grass in the direct path of another beam of sunlight piercing through the otherwise dark canopy. And then the dark mask looks up at him, his hand never moving from where it rests in the light, “Your father would be proud of you.”

And Luke’s hand falls back to his side, warmed by the sunlight from a moment before. But even that can’t compare to the warmth of those words that spreads through his chest. He opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of roaring engines suddenly fills the silence, and Luke jerks his head up, catching sight of the rear of the Millenium Falcon through a few of the leaves. It seems their time is up; if Vader doesn’t suddenly try to stop him, that is.

He glances warily at his father again, but the man makes no move. So Luke presses a hand into the grass and pushes himself to his feet, lightly dusting off the dirt clinging to his pants. Across from him, Vader rises as well, not quite gracefully, but there’s power there that Luke knows better than to underestimate. He spares a glance through the trees where he can see the Falcon beginning to land by the remains of the TIE. Then he looks back to his father, pushing all his emotions back into the box in his mind where he’s kept them for the past month. 

And Luke’s not sure why he does it, but his hand strays to his belt, to the weight of the saber hanging there, and with a swift motion, he tugs it off and spins it around, so the hilt is towards Vader, extending it towards him. Like this, with the blade pointing towards Luke’s chest, it would be all too easy for his father to push the ignition, with the Force or the hand that Luke repaired, and drive it through his chest. But Luke offers it anyway, “This is yours.”

Vader reaches for it slowly and clips it onto his belt with the same slow deliberation, hand never once straying close to the ignition button. Luke half-smiles at him and turns his back, walking towards the edge of the clearing a few meters away, where the Falcon is landing. Just before he steps back out into the sunlight, Vader’s voice echoes through the trees, “Thank you, my son.”

Luke’s mind blanks for all of a second, and then he spins on his heel, eyes wide as he peers through the darkness towards his father, who he’s just given a weapon back to, while he has none. He meets the red lenses’ gaze, one cracked down the middle, and for the briefest moment, he thinks he sees a flash of blue. Then it’s gone. But the mask inclines slightly to him, and Vader’s hands remain empty, not reaching for his blade, hanging from his belt.

From the clearing behind him, Luke hears Leia’s voice ring out as she calls to him. But he stands for a second more, staring at the mask of his father that somehow remembers but isn’t chasing after him. And then he turns and hurries out from under the trees, stumbling into Leia’s embrace before pulling her hastily back up the ramp of the Falcon and staring at the planet until they’re safely out of the atmosphere.

He reassures Leia and Chewie for a while, letting them check him over for injuries before he falls into one of the bunks while they enter hyperspace. He didn’t mention Vader to them. 

And he’ll pull out the memories of the conversation with his father, the implications, later, when he’s not thoroughly exhausted and reeling and emotionally spent. But for now, the Force seems somehow brighter than it did a day ago, like the darkness in the universe has shifted, lessened. Luke recalls his father’s hand resting in the sunlight, and he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so Libby_25cSoda who is amazing and talented made some beautiful art based off this story and i am beyond honored! the link is in the comments. please check it out!
> 
> If you guys liked it leave a comment. They make my day! Seriously I love reading them so please leave me one cause they motivate me to write more! if you guys have ideas for other stories send me an ask on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imadetheline) or just yell about stuff with me. Info about me and all my other tumblrs are [here](https://infoabtmaddie.carrd.co/#)


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